Quotes about southern
Kellie Elmore -
Puttin’ on a cowboy hat & a pair of boots doesn’t make you country Like puttin’ on a ball gown & glass heels won’t make me Cinderella.
Daven Anderson - Vampire Syndrome
You said you left Mississippi in 1854," Ron says. He turns to Mamuwalde and asks "Were you a runaway slave?" "Not at all," Cindy Lou answers. "Daddy freed him." Ron's jaw almost hits the floor. His wine glass does.
Frances Mayes - Under Magnolia: A Southern Memoir
Sometimes you have to travel back in time, skirting the obstacles, in order to love someone.
Frances Mayes - Under Magnolia: A Southern Memoir
First memory: a man at the back door is saying, I have real bad news, sweat is dripping off his face, Garbert's been shot, noise from my mother, I run to her room behind her, I'm jumping on the canopied bed while she cries, she's pulling out drawers looking for a handkerchief, Now, he's all right, the man say, they think, patting her shoulder, I'm jumping higher, I'm not allowed, they think he saved old man Mayes, the bed slats dislodge and the mattress collapses. My mother lunges for me.Many tr
Nancy B. Brewer - Letters from Lizzie
Sea and land may lie between us, but my heart is always there with you.
Nancy B. Brewer -
The curtains were not yet drawn and with the moonlight spreading across the room, I could see clearly. I undressed and slipped a soft cotton gown over my naked body. I pulled the blanket off the foot of my bed, covered my shoulders and wa...lked out on the balcony. The cool night air blowing through my hair served as a reminder that only a hint of summer remained in this year of 1860.
Magan Vernon - A Paper Trail
He shook his head. "No, we do. I may be a little buzzed and really fucking horny, but I also need you to know that I love you. I should have said it the first time months ago, and I will keep saying it every damn day. I love you more than every single star in the Louisiana sky above us.
Jennifer Harrison - Write like no one is reading
My voice falls into Southern drawl when I am tired, drunk, or in trouble. Too often, my accent is attacked by all three of these realities.
Mike Pompeo -
If terrorists are already on our southern border, a national-security failure has already occurred.
Daniel Woodrell -
Texas humor and Southern humor are pretty similar.
John Grant -
Reykjavik has a mixture of southern and northern mentality. There's a laid-back, relaxed attitude but also the feeling things are going to get done.
Travis Neighbor Ward - Come Find Me
I know what it feels like to miss everything about him--the way he smells, the way his mouth curls up when he laughs, his voice.
Jaycee Ford -
I'm always sketchy of people who don't like grits.
Kellie Elmore - Magic in the Backyard
It's summer and time for wandering...
Cleanth Brooks - The Language of the American South
Is it possible to make a sharp distinction between the content and the the form, between the personality of the Texas auctioneer and the language that he uses? Are not our attitudes toward people and events in great part shaped by the very language in which we describe them? When we try to describe one person to another or to a group, what do we say? Not usually how or what that person ate, rarely what he wore, only occasionally how he managed his job -- no, what we tell is what he said and, if
Terris McMahan Grimes - Smelling Herself: A Novel
Whuppins were like kid taxes we paid with our behinds.
Joan Didion - South and West: From a Notebook
It occurred to me almost constantly in the South that had I lived there I would have been an eccentric and full of anger, and I wondered what form the anger would have taken. Would I have taken up causes, or would I have simply knifed somebody?
Sarah Addison Allen - The Sugar Queen
Snow flurries began to fall and they swirled around people's legs like house cats. It was magical, this snow globe world.
Sarah Addison Allen - The Sugar Queen
She went to the window. A fine sheen of sugary frost covered everything in sight, and white smoke rose from chimneys in the valley below the resort town. The window opened to a rush of sharp early November air that would have the town in a flurry of activity, anticipating the tourists the colder weather always brought to the high mountains of North Carolina. She stuck her head out and took a deep breath. If she could eat the cold air, she would. She thought cold snaps were like cookies, like gin
Attica Locke - The Cutting Season
The decor was attractive and strong, but blander than she would have thought his wealth and position afforded him. Caren couldn't see the point of having that much money if all of it led to beige.
Pat Conroy - The Prince of Tides
There was a time when a new deputy tried to teach Mr. Fruit about the difference between a red and a green light, but Mr. Fruit had resisted all efforts to reorder what he had been doing perfectly well for many years. He had not only monitored the comings and goings of the town, his presence softened the ingrained evil that flourished along the invisible margins of the town’s consciousness. Any community can be judged in its humanity or corruption by how it manages to accommodate the Mr. Fruits
Kellie Elmore - Magic in the Backyard
...and should I die in her care, I would leave smiling because, I will linger in the hills beside her...
Pat Conroy - A Lowcountry Heart: Reflections on a Writing Life
My career still strikes me as miraculous. That a boy raised on Marine bases in the South, taught by Roman Catholic nuns in backwater Southern towns that loathed Catholics, and completed his education with an immersion into The Citadel—the whole story sounds fabricated, impossible even to me. Maybe especially to me.
James Caskey - The Haunted History of New Orleans: Ghosts of the French Quarter
Every town has ‘THAT house’: the one that once held dark secrets. You know the house… the one no one will purchase? The one whose walls have seen blood? The one that even birds avoid, and the darkened windows resemble empty eye sockets? There are furtive, yet insistent, whispers about ‘that’ house, murmurs that perhaps the house is best left alone, lest the dark stain left upon that abode’s history seep into our own present-day.
James Caskey - Charleston's Ghosts: Hauntings in the Holy City
Many people, after spending a long weekend being stealthily seduced by this grand dame of the South, mistakenly think that they have gotten to know her: they believe (in error) that after a long stroll amongst the rustling palmettoes and gas lamps, a couple of sumptuous meals, and a tour or two, that they have discovered everything there is to know about this seemingly genteel, elegant city. But like any great seductress, Charleston presents a careful veneer of half-truths and outright fabricati
James Caskey - Haunted Savannah: America's Most Spectral City
I began to doubt that I would ever know the truth of what transpired, or who those people really were. But all that changed one rainy August afternoon, when I was surprised by a dead man who had answers.
Rob Tims - Southern Fried Faith: How the Bible Belt Confuses Christ and Culture
Whenever a group of people who are designed to primarily unite around one thing try to unite around something else, the result is devastating for all.
Truman Capote - Including A Tree of Night and Other Stories
Kay yawned and rested her forehead against the windowpane, her fingers idly strumming the guitar: the strings sang a hollow, lulling tune, as monotonously soothing as the Southern landscape, smudged in darkness, flowing past the window. An icy winter moon rolled above the train across the night sky like a thin white wheel.
Magda Young -
As a child, I ate up the image Carl strived to portray: An inspirational rags-to-riches tale of a go-getter emerging the hell of his sulfur-scented, Podunk Texas upbringing. With a community college dropout education, Carl managed to reach six figures as a mobile home lot manager when the trailer park industry boomed in the early nineties. He decorated his accomplishments with a large house, yachts, and weekly morale shindigs for his salesmen bursting with open bars and filet mignon. However, my
Tim Heaton -
If there is such a things as "race", there is only the Human one.
Angie Fox - Southern Spirits
Quick," I hissed. "Tell me what you know about this place."The ghost frowned. His face appeared sweaty and his hair was a mess, like he'd been running his fingers through it. "How about, 'hey, Frankie. How you doing, Frankie? I see you're missing both your legs, Frankie.
Magan Vernon - These Paper Walls
I shook my head. "You know I ain't never going to be good enough for her. She can't fall in love with me, you know as well as I do that nothing good is going to come of her staying with me.""Then why do you stay with her? Why, if you seem to think that this is a bad idea, do you stay with her?"I raked my fingers through my hair. "I don't know! Maybe I'm stupid? A glutton for punishment."Jackson pointed his beer at me. "Or maybe you love her too and that scares the shit out of you.
Nancy B. Brewer - Carolina Rain
He was wearing a little bag of “Mojo” around his neck.
Nancy B. Brewer -
{Summertime she speaks of winter, she eats ham, but speaks of beef, got a good man but, flirts with another. She might as well go to hell, cause she ain't gonna be happy in heaven either!}
Flannery O'Connor - The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O'Connor
Total non-retention has kept my education from being a burden to me.
Karen Harper - Fall from Pride
Southern hospitality and Amish cooking - Ya'll Come Back, Danki.
Maxine Hong Kingston -
Ocean people are different from land people. The ocean never stops saying and asking into ears, which don’t sleep like eyes. Those who live by the sea examine the driftwood and glass balls that float from foreign ships. They let scores of invisible imps loose out of found bottles. In a scoop of salt water, they revive the dead blobs that have been beached in storms and tides: fins, whiskers, and gills unfold; mouths, eyes, and colors bloom and spread. Sometimes ocean people are given to understa
Maggie Georgiana Young - Just Another Number
Children are often like hostages under the care of authority, with spankings and groundings nudging them like guns pointed at their skulls, threatening to shoot if the wrong words are uttered.
Maggie Georgiana Young - Just Another Number
It wasn’t really a loud-mouthed, hyperactive little pig-tailed blonde that made Carl cringe. It was what I represented. While his upbringing was battered humiliation, I was spoiled, doted on, and spoon-fed by the world. I don’t think he was even aware of his intentions to reduce that child to his own state of self-loathing, but he was truly brilliant at it.
Flannery O'Connor - A Good Man is Hard to Find and Other Stories
The child came to a stop beside her mother and stared up at her face as if she had never seen it before. It was the face of the new misery she felt, but on her mother it looked old and it looked as if it might have belonged to anybody, a Negro or a European or to Powell himself. The child turned her head quickly, and past the Negroe's ambling figures she could see the column of smoke rising and widening unchecked inside the granite line of trees. She stood taut, listening, and could just catch i
Scott Thompson -
My parents won’t let me have a motorcycle, but they give me all the guns I want. I asked them for a motorcycle last Christmas and they told me I’d only kill myself. They got me this twelve-gauge instead.
Barbara O'Connor - Wish
You'd think that a redheaded boy with glasses who was named Howard and had an up-down walk would have a lot more to wish for than being friends with me. But I admit I felt a smile on my face and hope in my heart, 'cause maybe wishes really do come true. Maybe some wishes just take longer than others.
Nancy B. Brewer - Carolina Rain
She turned her painted blue eyes toward the assistant and said something in French before she left.
Kellie Elmore - Magic in the Backyard
Sing me a love song in a slow, southern drawl to the tune of sunny days...
James Lee Burke - Jolie Blon's Bounce
But no one could say he hadn't gotten even. He could not count the field women whom he had sexually degraded and demoralized and in whom he had left his seed so their bastard children would be a daily visual reminder of what a plantation white man could do to a plantation black woman whenever he wanted, nor could he count the black men whom he had made fear his blackjack as they would fear Satan himself, making each of them a lifetime enemy of all white people.